Reiteration Concerto
by Amethyst Light
Summary: Lili drove Sebastian away with her talkativeness. Let's see if she can do the same with Dragunov.


Let's face it, girls like to talk. _Love_ to gossip. _Obsess_ over from what they want to wear to their boyfriends and/or guys that happen to be their friend. Mostly because they either love the sound of their voice or they have nothing else better to do. Or their babysitter is as stubborn as a rock. Or as dumb as one.

Lili is no different. In fact, she likes to get her point across by repeating the same statement. Over and over and over again. Sergei should know. He's stuck as her 'guardian' until Sebastian is done with his butler duties. But then again, the ever so faithful butler hasn't returned to the Rochefort estate for months. Makes you wonder if he's really on his duties or ran off from the high maintenance piece of work that is Lili. Yeah…

The bright, happy sunshiny days of Monaco were all the same to Dragunov. Full of sun, which was bad for his almost translucent vampire skin. Happy, which was the total opposite of his monotone, glum attitude on everything living. And repetitive. Oh god, was it repetitive. He can't recall a time when Lili _didn't_ give him the same piece of advice at least five times in the same hour.

"Smile Sergei! Maybe you will actually look your age instead of looking like the living undead…" she would trail off and stare at him with the look of begging in her eyes. He would give her the nonchalant expression and look elsewhere.

"Please? Do it! If you do I'll be entertained and you'll look younger. We'll both win!"

"..."

Lili proceeded to pull at the corners of the Russian's mouth and managed to make a faux smile. She smirked at her own satisfaction and slowly took her hands away from his face. All too quickly, the smiling Sergei went back to his usual, boring emo self.

"Come on! At least keep it there for five seconds."

'Hmph' would be his way of saying 'Haha, you wish little girl.' But that didn't stop her from saying it again. A command to smile. A disgruntled sigh. Another attempt to make him fake smile. Repeat three times. Lather. Rinse thoroughly. Then repeated the next hour only with another command of amusement.

"Speaking of appearance, there is more to life than khaki on khaki outfits. I mean, you're not on military duty right now! I see soldiers all over wear normal people clothes when they aren't on the job. Why won't you do the same?"

"...Ugh." Dragunov would scoff. Meaning 'Look, I like my homeland's militia wear. You don't like it, you don't like Russia. And those who don't like Russia will get the most brutal span-king of their life. And no, do not get any ideas; it is not me who's going to do it but someone you wish you would have never meet'.

"Don't 'ugh!' me! If you actually changed your outfit, _maybe_ you will get a girlfriend."

Dragunov blankly stared at her. Like he cares for a girlfriend. He just wants to get the hell out of Monaco and back to the motherland Russia. Where he can cause major mayhem and destruction on random things. And blow up numerous old buildings. Because fire is just so damn fun to look at. But that's a whole other story. Moving on.

"Oh come on! You're almost 30 and aren't married. That's considered weird, if you ask me. But then again, the only girls I can see who want you are the ones that go shopping at that store with all the plaid pants and rocker shirts. Hot Topic, was it? Or Spencers. One of those American stores!"

He continued to stare at her, the thoughts of _What the hell is she talking about now? _running through his head. Sergei watched as Lili ran off for a split moment to grab something; a magazine, of all things. _That better be a weapons magazine or else._ He thought as the girl began to thumb through the desired page.

"See this? This is how people your age dress!" Lili pointed to an article titled 'Suits are the new casual!', several men in different styles of 'casual' wear. Suits, ties, cashemere sweaters. Anything with a ridiculous price tag, it was on the page. "I personally think you can pull off the all black look. Not so much to look like an emo rocker but the instead a man pulling off the nice, classy look! What do you think? I think it's perfect! But if you say otherwise, I guess I can understand..."

She kept going on and on about how the latest European fashions can even make the most drab of people like Sergei Dragunov look like 'the hot shit of today's modeling industries' (to put the term at its fullest anyway). And _then_ she resumed on and on about how he never takes her advice and that he's going to pay for it in the end. Sergei felt as if his mind was about to snap into two. Like when someone is angry and resentful to eat a piece of celery that they snap it into two equal halves because of their boiling fury. Oh yes, he was pissed.

All the things she said started to run through his mind like mad.

'Sergei do this!'

'Sergei do that!'

'Sergei, why don't people call you by your first name instead of Dragunov? Who wants to be called by the name of something that sounds like a rifle? Sure, that may sound hot to some people, but not in my household! I am calling you Sergei and you are going to like it!'

'Sergei Dragunov, answer me or I am telling my father you are being a jerk!'

All the things she said. Running through his head. Running through his head. Running through his head. Through his fucking head.

And everything just snapped.

His face suddenly appeared as if his inner self just crashed and burned. His left eye began to twitch slowly, followed by the corner of his mouth. Lili looked up from her magazine and watched at what was going to be considered the most out of character thing to ever happen in a Dragunov fic gone wrong. What sounded like a forced laugh came out more like a maniacal laugh of pain. Whatever that sounds like. And before she could say anything, he turn and ran for it.

"Dragunov-!"

But the Russian Edward Scissorshands was gone.

Suprisingly, Lili didn't seem upset at this ordeal. In fact, she was amused. A little too amused for someone who just drove someone almost off their rocker. "Well what can I say? This is the third time this month! Oh well, time to call the guards again…"


End file.
